


Of Promises and Pomegranate Seeds

by MissPugLover24



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Because I know Greek Mythology is Incestuous, But We Don't Do That Here, Draco as Hades, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Half-Blood Hermione Granger, Happy Ending, Hermione as Persephone, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Love at First Sight, Memory Loss, No Incest, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Prophecy, Rebirth, Smut, True Love, Twelve Gods of Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Underage kind of, Unrequited Love, memory recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPugLover24/pseuds/MissPugLover24
Summary: 'Though the immortal may perish//Their father’s curse brought down//There is hope that they can cherish//A chance that can be found//For in the darkest of nights//Before the brightest of days//On the eve of a brewing fight//Love shall prevent what is underway//For when death reunites//Life shall be reborn'And as the world around them crumbled to pieces; as they disintegrated into ashes, he held her close, his pale hands tangled in her bronze curls. Stormy grey eyes met honey.“Little love, I will find you,” he whispered into her ear, “I promise.”
Relationships: Aphrodite/Artemis (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Susan Bones/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 11
Kudos: 167





	1. The First Seed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adore Hades/Persephone stories and I was struck by inspiration on Friday, so I spent most of this weekend putting this together. I have everything except the last bits of the last chapter finished, and I think I'll be posting on Wednesdays and Sundays. It should be ~20k words when I finish it, which should be within an hour or so. So Snakes and Sunflowers fans, don't worry, this won't affect my posting or writing that fic. With all that said, I hope you enjoy!

_“The sky'd be falling and I'd hold you tight_

_And there wouldn't be a reason why_

_We would even have to say goodbye”_

* * *

**Roughly 800 AD**

_“Though the immortal may perish_

_Their father’s curse brought down_

_There is hope that they can cherish_

_A chance that can be found_

_For in the darkest of nights_

_Before the brightest of days_

_On the eve of a brewing fight_

_Love shall prevent what is underway_

_For when death reunites_

_Life shall be reborn”_

And as the world around them crumbled to pieces; as they disintegrated into ashes, he held her close, his pale hands tangled in her bronze curls.

Stormy grey eyes met honey.

“Little love, I will find you,” he whispered into her ear, “I promise.”

* * *

**Early 1979**

Their eyes met from across the bar, ocean blue and caramel. Ceres McGonagall looked back down at her drink, and then back up at the stranger, who was walking over to her. When he sat down next to her, he slid her a shot of whiskey. 

“Is that a little too hard for you?”

She scoffed. “A little firewhiskey?” she laughed, “My sister and I were taking shots of these like it was nothing when we were fifth years.”

His eyes sparkled in amusement.

“So you’re up for just about anything then?” he asked, smirking.

She met his gaze, “Anything.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, before looking back up, locked in the contest with this stranger-and she refused to lose. “I’m Ceres. And you are?”

“Tom.”

* * *

**September 1979**

A heavily pregnant woman wandered through Muggle London, her face ashen and grey, searching for something only she knew. Her ankle gave out from under her, but she was caught. Looking up at her savior, she saw a Muggle man and his wife, looking at her concerned. 

“You need to go somewhere to rest,” the man said, “Our house is just a block down, if you’re comfortable with that?”

Ceres nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Heavily supported by the middle-aged couple, she stumbled to their house, a large house right in the middle of London, with large windows and light that streamed into every room. She was laid on the couch, and the Muggle woman spoke up for the first time.

“I’m Helen Granger, and this is my husband, Richard. I don’t mean to pry, but are you alright?”

Ceres shook her head. “I’m dying.”

Helen gasped, “Good god! Richard, we need to get her to the hospital!”

“No, please, don’t.”

“Whyever not?”

Ceres took in a deep breath, “They won’t be able to fix anything.” And that was true. There was nothing a doctor-Magical or Muggle could do for her. She could feel the Magic seeping from her core, and there was nothing to be done about it. She had tried.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Richard asked.

Ceres took in a deep breath, although very little of the oxygen reached her lungs. “I’m about to have a baby. A baby girl. I-” she jerked in pain, “Please, I need somebody to take care of her. Please.”

Helen and Richard looked absolutely shocked. “You...want us to raise your baby? If you die?”

“ _When_ I die. Or please, find somebody kind to raise her.”

Helen started to cry. They had just come back from a doctors appointment, and had found out that she was infertile, and despite her greatest wishes to have a child, it wasn’t to be. But-

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Do you have relatives who would want to take her in?”

“I do,” Ceres’ smile was watery, “But it’s not safe right now. I need you to take her in until she is eleven. On her eleventh birthday, I need you to try and find a woman named Minerva. Minerva McGonagall. She is my sister. It should-it should hopefully be safe for her by then.”

Helen grasped the woman’s hand, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t explain much. My little girl is going to be rather extraordinary, and on her eleventh birthday her life will change. Please, do not try to find Minerva before her eleventh birthday. _Please._ ” 

Helen nodded fervently as Richard ducked his head. “Were you sent by God? We’ve wanted nothing more than a baby, and we couldn’t have one, and then you show up out of nowhere.”

Ceres’ chuckle was weak. “Perhaps. I believe it was fate, maybe. But I thank whoever above designed for this to happen. My baby will be safe.”

The birth was quick and Ceres was too exhausted to cry out in pain. She held her daughter close to her chest and murmured into the wisps of her hair. She then held her out for Helen to hold. Helen took the baby into her arms, cradling her and singing a soft lullaby. 

Ceres’ face was devoid of any color, as she took in weak, shaky breaths. 

“What is her name?”

Ceres drew in the deepest breath she could, as she felt her heartbeat weaken and slow by the minute. She knew it would be perhaps only a few moments longer. “Hermione. Her name is Hermione.”

* * *

**September 1990**

Hermione was, as promised, a rather extraordinary child. She was the light of each person’s life that she touched. Her eyes were honey brown, her hair was a mass of wild bronze locks, and her smile was radiant-the kind that made everyone in the room stare. She was incredibly precocious and kind to everyone she met. 

Raised by Richard and Helen Granger, Hermione had a wonderful childhood. She had known, ever since she was little, that they were not her real parents, that her mother had died after giving birth to her. Her mother was buried in a nearby cemetery, where wildflowers grew around her stone, and Hermione would visit the grave often and trace the letters on the stone with her finger. _Ceres McGonagall_. 

Richard and Helen knew that Hermione was supposed to be special, so it wasn’t terribly hard to believe when she told them one day when she was a toddler, rather matter-of-factly that she was magical.

“Look!” she had said, before furrowing her brow in concentration and pushing her hand out towards a stuffed toy, as it lifted inches off of the ground. And so that was that.

Richard and Helen suspected that their daughter’s abilities had something to do with Minerva McGonagall and Hermione’s eleventh birthday. This was, of course, shared with Hermione, who had taken it surprisingly well for a seven-year-old. 

“Is she going to take me away?”

Helen had looked at her sadly, “Perhaps. But you will be with your Aunt, and with other people just like you-people who are special like you.”

“But will I be able to still see you and Daddy?”

“Of course. As long as you want to come and see us, we will see you.”

On the night before her eleventh birthday, it took four cups of sleep-assisting tea to get Hermione to be able to fall asleep, not that Richard or Helen were much better. When the sun rose on September nineteenth, Hermione went downstairs for breakfast, where her parents were waiting at the table. She received mountains of books-old and new, rare and common, ones that were favorites and ones that she had never read before. The Grangers were in a lively conversation about the royal family-Hermione admired Princess Diana greatly-when the doorbell rang.

As Helen rose to get the door, Hermione chewed on her lip nervously. She had waited for so long for what was perhaps this moment, theorized endlessly what it could be. She loved her parents dearly, but she wanted to find this Aunt Minerva of hers, to ask about her mother, to learn about the world she came from. Her father took hold of her hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

“You are brave and strong and beautiful, Hermione. You can take anything life throws at you.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

A tall woman with brunette hair striped with pieces of grey walked into the kitchen. She was wearing green robes and a tall green witch’s hat, something like a Halloween costume, but endlessly more stylish.

Her eyes landed on Hermione. “My gods.”

She scanned the older woman’s face. She looked rather similar to Hermione.

“Are you Minerva McGonagall?” Hermione asked, a bit nervously. “We’re supposed to start looking for a Minerva McGonagall today.”

“Are you-is her mother?”

“Ceres McGonagall. That’s what she told us,” said Richard.

Minerva raced across the room and swept the girl into her arms. “My dear, I’ve been looking for you for eleven years.”

* * *

It was a rather emotional day, as Hermione met her Aunt Minnie. Tears were spilled by all parties involved, and there wasn’t a dry eye when Hermione took Minerva to Ceres’ gravestone. They held each other as they cried, and once everybody had dried out their tear ducts for what would probably be the entire year, they sat in the Granger’s living room.

“My dear Hermione, you are, a witch,” said Minerva, as she handed her an envelope.

“Ha!” Hermione pointed at her mother, “I told you it would be a witch, not a sorcerer!”

“I’m sorry?” Minerva said.

Helen was quick to explain. “We were told by her mother that Hermione would be rather extraordinary. So when she took me by the hand and told me she was magical before making her stuffed bear fly three feet off of the ground, I don’t suppose we were as shocked as most others would be.”

“Her mother said that when she turned eleven and when we found Minerva McGonagall, it would be safe for Hermione to live with her-whatever did she mean by that?” Richard asked.

Minerva’s face darkened. “We were in the middle of a war when Ceres was pregnant, a rather bad one at that. It might’ve had to do with the identity of Hermione’s father-only Ceres knew, and she refused to tell anybody. She told us that he was not on our side of the war, and she was not going to have her baby caught in the middle.”

“Is it...is the war over now? Can I live with all the other witches?”

“Yes, if that is what you want to do, and if it is alright with your parents.”

Minerva and Hermione looked at Helen and Richard, who wore watery smiles. “We knew that this day would come, Hermione.”

Hermione rushed to hug her parents. “I’ll visit and call and write as much as I can.”

The Granger family stayed like that for seconds, for hours. When Hermione pulled away, she looked at her Aunt.

“Do you want to see Diagon Alley?”

* * *

Hermione walked down Diagon Alley, trying to take in every single sight she could, while Minerva watched her with a smile on her face. 

“You know, it’s rather lucky you have a birthday in September. We can get all of your school supplies and do as much as you want without any of the crowds that come during the summer.”

As Hermione’s eyes wandered the street, she asked Minerva, “Was my father a witch too?”

Minerva chuckled, “We call men with magic wizards here, but yes, he was. That was the only other thing we were told about him. In fact, if you would like, we can do a Gringotts Inheritance Test, to see who your father is, if you would like.”

“He fought for the other side of the war you were talking about though, what if he’s someone you absolutely hate? What if it makes everyone hate me? What if _you_ hate me?” Hermione’s eyes started to water.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “I could never hate you. I have loved you since I felt you kick against your mother. I’ve loved you as I’ve searched for you endlessly for the past decade. You are my sister’s daughter.” Hermione hugged her Aunt tightly. “I saw that you had many books at your table-I can take you to the bookstore if you like?”

“Really?” Hermione beamed, before halting. “Mum and Dad gave me a bunch of money that they’d been saving up for when I turned eleven, I can use that to pay for it. Will it be enough for all my things?”

Minerva looked affronted, “My dear, you will not pay a single Galleon for anything today.”

“I hate to do that to you-”

“Nonsense. I may not be a Malfoy perhaps, but my job pays very well, and as I only have to take care of myself, I’ve got more than enough to spare. I’ve been waiting for you for so long-you will have the very best, whatever your heart desires.”

After a day packed with shopping, with mountains of books shrunk into pockets and bags and bags of robes hidden in expandable bags, Hermione was led into a shop by her Aunt.

“This is Ollivander’s,” she explained, “You will be getting your wand here.”

Ollivander was a curious looking man with wild white tufts of hair and large, thick glasses. Hermione supposed he looked rather like a mad scientist in a film, but was much too polite to say that. When she walked into the store, he zeroed in on her, his eyes as old as time. 

“Welcome Miss Granger, or is it Miss McGonagall?”

Hermione chewed on her lip. She rather wanted to be a McGonagall-like her mother, like her Aunt, but she didn’t want to assume anything. She looked at Minerva. “Am...that is to say, can I be…?” she trailed off.

“My dear girl,” Minerva’s eyes shone, “I would love nothing more for you to be a McGonagall. We can have it officially changed at Gringotts after this, if you like.”

Hermione nodded fervently. “I would like that very much.”

“Miss McGonagall it is then,” said Ollivander-who Hermione had forgotten all about. She spun back around to look at him. “I suppose you’re in here to find a wand?”

“Yes sir.”

And so it began. Hermione tried wand after wand, ash wood, hawthorn, cherry; phoenix feather, unicorn hair, and various dragon heartstrings. But when Ollivander brought out one wand-“10 ¾ inches, Vinewood with a Dragon Heartstring”-when Hermione touched it, it felt like coming home. Picking it up and waving it produced a wonderful display of sparks and fireworks. Hermione beamed and Minerva clapped her hands in delight. 

“This is the one,” she said, her smile lighting up the room.

* * *

The wait in Gringotts was fairly short, and while they stood in line, Minerva explained to Hermione the banking system of the Wizarding World.

“The main form of currency is a Galleon. It is equivalent to about five British Pounds. There is one major bank-called Gringotts. It is run by goblins, and everybody in Wizarding Britain keeps their gold here. There are various other Gringotts across the globe in the other Magical Communities, but the London Bank that we are in now is the Head Location.” 

“Next!” cried a goblin, and Hermione and Minerva stepped forward to the booth.

“We’re to do a last name change here, as well as an Inheritance test,” Minerva said. 

“That’ll be ten galleons.” Minerva pulled the payment out of a pocket in her robes and slid it across the table. The goblin counted each coin and then took the stack, depositing it in a chute. He pulled out a knife and a large piece of parchment. The goblin grabbed Hermione’s hand and laid it flat on the table before slicing the palm with the knife. Hermione’s shoulders tensed but she kept her hand in place-she didn’t want to accidentally anger or offend the Goblin. When he pushed it back towards her, Minerva pulled out her wand, pointed it at her hand and whispered “Episkey.”

Hermione watched in fascination as the skin knitted itself back together. Minerva smiled at her knowingly. “Magic.” Hermione laughed brightly, before turning her attention back to the Goblin, who had spread the drops of her blood upon the piece of parchment, and before Hermione’s eyes, the blood turned into ink, which formed words and lines and spread up the paper. 

When the paper was turned around for her to view, Hermione studied it intently. On her Mother’s side was the McGonagall family, which went back quite a bit. It apparently faded out when the witch or wizard was a muggle-born-like Hermione’s grandmother. But what was truly interesting was her father’s side. She started at the top-where soon enough stood out a name in bold: _Salazar Slytherin._

“Who’s Salazar Slytherin?”

Minerva raised an eyebrow, searching the list for the name before finding it. “He is one of the four founders of Hogwarts. You can read more about him in one of the books that you got- _Hogwarts: A History_.”

Hermione nodded, and continued following the list down. Somewhere along the line there was a Peverell, among a couple other names Minerva seemed to take note of. But the main line was of the family name ‘Gaunt’. Hermione followed it down centuries and centuries of the parchment before arriving at the name of her grandmother- _Merope Gaunt_ , who was married to and had a child with _Tom Riddle Sr_., a Muggle. Their child, Hermione’s father, drew a gasp from Minerva. 

_Tom Riddle Jr._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a whole lot of exposition, but the plot starts next chapter :)


	2. Second Seed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here comes the plot!

“Who’s that?” asked Hermione. 

“I’ll tell you when we get home,” Minerva said briskly. The name change took another minute or two, before Hermione was rushed out of the building by her Aunt. “I want you to hold my hand very tightly, Hermione. This might make you feel a bit sick.”

Hermione was confused but did as told. Suddenly she felt like she was squeezed through a tube for a millisecond, and just as suddenly it had come, it went. Hermione swayed, before she was directed into a chair by Minerva. 

Hermione took in her surroundings-it was a small sitting room, with two doorways off on opposite sides of the door. The room was warmly decorated with deep reds and golds, and moving pictures on the walls. 

“Where are we?”

“We are in Hogwarts-where I work and live. I’m a Professor here, I teach Transfiguration, which is transforming one thing into another,” she said as she used her wand to heat up a pot of tea, before pouring into cups and pushing it towards Hermione.

“Who’s Tom Riddle Jr?”

Minerva took in a deep breath, sighing it out. “Tom Riddle Jr. is otherwise known as Lord Voldemort.” The woman whispered the last part, looking around the room, although nobody was there. 

“Who’s that?” asked Hermione, “And why’d you say it in a whisper? Voldemort is just a name. A stupid one, in my opinion, but still.”

Minerva froze for a moment, before her shoulders started to shake. Hermione grew worried she had done something wrong, when the witch threw back her head and started laughing heartily. “Gods above!” she wiped away the tears in her eyes, “You’re quite wonderful, Hermione, never let anybody tell you different.  _ Voldemort _ is usually called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who.”

“Why?”

“It’s taboo to call him, well,  _ Voldemort _ ,” Minerva grasped Hermione’s hand. “Now, I want you to keep in mind that I hold none of this against you-your father’s deeds are not your own.” She took a deep breath. “You-Know-Who was the leader of the Dark Side during the War. It started in about the mid to late 70s and ended on October 31st, 1981, when You-Know-Who was defeated by Harry Potter. After killing James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, he cast the killing curse at baby Harry. Instead of killing him though, it bounced off of him, and hit You-Know-Who instead.”

Hermione thought for a moment, before saying “How does that work? And what was the war about? What was everyone fighting over?”

“The answer to the first question is something everyone isn’t quite sure on, so I’m afraid I can’t answer that. However, I can talk about the war. It was over the issue of separation between the Wizarding World and the Muggle World. We have the Statute of Secrecy, which forbids any witch or wizard telling anybody non-magical about the existence of the Wizarding World and magic, excluding their immediate family.”

“Ok, so what was the problem with that?”

“You-Know-Who, and his side believed that there shouldn’t be  _ any _ Muggles aware of the Wizarding World. They believed that muggle-borns should be taken away from their families at the first sign of magic, and their families to be obliviated-that is to say memory charmed-so they forgot about their child.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Some even believed that those with more Wizard Ancestors-those who were ‘pure’ were better than muggle-borns, or those related to Muggles.”

“They aren’t though, right?” Hermione bit her lip, “I can’t see how your family would affect how good at magic you are.”

“In part, you’re right. There are family gifts, family spells that a House may be more skilled in. For example, the McGonagall family is very good at duelling. Professor Snape, who teaches Potions, comes from the Prince family, which has a history of being skilled in potions. Then there are family grimoires, spellbooks, with spells, potions and rituals known only to those in the family. So those with Magical Families do have that advantage, and that is of course, on top of having people at home who can teach them magic one-on-one.”

“What about muggle-borns?”

“They tend to have very strong magical cores. Purebloods tend to marry within each other, so it gets a little bit inbred at times, which makes them more likely to produce non-magical offspring, called Squibs. Muggle-borns are descended from lines of Squibs that intermarry with Muggles, so their cores are strong due to the build up of new blood throughout the generations.”

“I’m not a Pureblood though, right? My grandfather on my paternal side, he’s a muggle, and your mum was muggle-born, so both of her parents were non-magical. What does that make me?”

“We are, like the majority of the Wizarding world, half-bloods. Personally, I think it’s the best of both worlds-we receive the gifts that come from having magical families without all the shared genetics.” Hermione made a face at that and Minerva laughed. “That’s similar to what I think of all that.”

Hermione paused for a second. “What can I call you? Growing up we always called you my Aunt Minnie.”

Minerva smiled widely. “I’d love to be your Aunt Minnie.”

* * *

Hermione spent the year at Hogwarts, learning everything that she could. Since she was under adult supervision, Minerva determined that it would be okay for her to start learning magic, although she couldn’t take it with the first years. So, during the periods Professors had free, Hermione went classroom to classroom, learning as much as she possibly could.

There was, of course, her Aunt Minnie, who taught Transfiguration. Although Hermione was only allowed to learn first and second year transfiguration in a sake of practicality, as her core was not yet mature enough to handle higher year magic, she tore through the theory of each year, rather quickly, and would be seen testing fifth years studying for their OWLS on the theoretical side of transfiguration in the library. 

With Professor Flitwick, she learned Charms, and took great delight in them. The short half-goblin was just as excitable at Hermione’s aptitude, and even let her sit in on a few lessons (although this was kept a secret from Aunt Minnie), and would take great delight in Hermione making various fruits dance across the desk. 

Professor Snape, who was typically rather grouchy, had a soft spot for Hermione-which Minerva teased him ruthlessly about when he admitted that he would still like her even if she was sorted into Gryffindor the next year. Hermione would drag him out of the dungeons and into the courtyards and sunlight, and help him grade essays, while making Daisy Chains.

Hermione mapped the stars with Professor Sinastra, talked about the Muggle world with Professor Burbage, learned Arithmancy and Runes with Professors Vector and Babbling, and oohed and ahhed in delight over the creatures Professor Kettleburn took care of. The one subject she didn’t like was Divination, which she thought was ‘ _ Complete bollocks! _ ’, to her Aunt’s laughter. 

But her favorite class was with Professor Sprout-Herbology. Hermione had always rather liked plants and plants had always liked her, so she was an herbology prodigy. She spent hours with her knees coated in dirt alongside Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, and even would work in the Greenhouses by herself when there wasn’t a class being held. 

Hermione wasn’t just beloved by the Professors, she was also very popular among the students, and had friends spread throughout the years. There was first year Katie Bell, who was similarly gifted with Herbology, and was absolutely brilliant on a broom (and was teaching Hermione alongside Aunt Minnie-she had gone from being a terrible flyer and absolutely terrified of going on a broom to being average and unafraid, which was quite the feat). There was second year Cedric Diggory, who was about the nicest person Hermione had ever met, along with a pair of second year Gryffindor twins named Fred and George Weasley. They pulled some rather funny pranks, and despite her Aunt’s exasperation, she had gotten her to admit that she was fond of the two red-heads. Hermione was also close with seventh-year Nymphadora Tonks, a metamorphmagus who took great delight in making Hermione laugh, and taught her various hexes and jinxes. 

That summer, Hermione was sworn into secrecy when she figured out that they were hiding  _ something _ in the third floor corridor, and was told that it was the Philosopher's Stone. Hermione didn’t really get why Headmaster Dumbledore was doing it, but he told her she could visit the Cerberus, named Fluffy, whenever she wanted, as he had taken a liking to Hermione immediately after meeting her, so she didn’t really care. 

On September 1st, 1991, Hermione was standing in her and Aunt Minnie’s quarters, brushing her hair. The curls had become, thankfully, much more manageable when Aunt Minnie had taught her some charms to make them dry better, as well as not frizz up so much. Compared to the pictures Aunt Minnie had lining the walls, Hermione looked almost identical to her late mother. She had inherited from her father-whose identity Hermione and Minerva had decided to share with only very few people-her intelligence, although she didn’t have the cruel streak that everyone said Voldemort had, which Hermione was grateful for. Her mother had also been rather smart, but her talents had laid primarily in Herbology, which she had loved dearly.

“I don’t see why I  _ have _ to go all the way to London to take a train ride to come back here!” Hermione protested. 

Minerva smiled, “It’s tradition.”

“But why can’t they use Portkeys or Apparition to transport everyone instantaneously instead of a long train ride?” 

“Don’t you want to see Katie, Cedric and the twins? You’ll get to spend eight hours talking with them and catching up from the summer.”

“Oh!” Hermione brightened, “The train is brilliant then!”

Minerva rolled her eyes, but was smiling. “Hold on,” she said before apparating them both to Platforms 9 ¾.

* * *

Hermione sat in a compartment across from the twins and Cedric, and right next to Katie, who was braiding her hair. The twins were talking animatedly about their summer, while Cedric was thumbing through a book. 

“Really brilliant summer-”

“Percy’s a prefect-”

“Which he mentioned-”

“Like-”

“A million times!” they said in tandem. 

“Don’t you also have a brother who’s going to be a firstie, like Hermione?” Cedric asked, before saying good-naturedly, “And if you don’t answer that normally, I’m going to knock you both on the head with my book.”

The twins eyed the book, which was fairly thick and hard cover, and made a big show out of gulping. It was Fred who spoke. “Ickle Ronniekins is indeed a first year.”

“And you’ll never guess who we met before boarding the train!”

“Harry Potter!”

“That’s pretty cool, guys, maybe they’ll be friends or something,” Katie offered.

“Maybe not,” said George, “We reckon Harry Potter’ll be in Gryffindor, and we’re  _ hoping  _ Ronniekins won’t be sorted there.”

Hermione smacked George’s arm. “You  _ guys! _ He is your brother!”

“Exactly!” said Fred, who ducked out of reach of Hermione’s hand just in time. “We’ve got enough Weasleys in Gryffindor as it is, plus he’s dead annoying sometimes.”

“What about Ginny?” Cedric asked, “Do you want her to be in Gryffindor next year?”

“Of course!” they said, sounding affronted.

Hermione scrunched her nose, “Why Ginny but not Ron?”

“Because we actually  _ like _ Ginny!”

Hermione, Cedric and Katie exchanged confused glances. They were all only children, so they didn’t quite understand the sibling dynamics of the Weasleys. 

“I wish Tonks didn’t graduate last year,” Hermione sighed, “It’d be nice to have her here another year.”

“It’s really a shame,” said Fred.

“Oh, you’re just saying that because she turned into Professor Snape that one time and let you guys use it in a prank!”

The twins howled in laughter. “That was a good one!” smiled George.

“What house do you think I’ll be in?” Hermione asked once they had calmed down-or at least were calm for the twins. 

“Gryffindor or Hufflepuff,” Cedric said assuredly.

“I think you’ll be in Ravenclaw,” said Katie, “But I want you in Gryffindor with me!”

The twins looked at each other before saying in tandem, “Gryffindor!” Fred grinned, “It’s in your blood.”

Hermione froze. “What if I was in Slytherin though?”

Katie shrugged, “Then you’d be the same Hermione McGonagall, just in green robes.”

Cedric eyed her curiously, “You froze when the twins said Gryffindor was in your blood. Why is that?”

Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek before making a decision. “I need all of you to keep this an absolute secret, and if you don’t want to be my friend after this, I understand.”

In a rare moment of seriousness, George took Hermione’s hands and looked her in the eyes. “I promise, there’s nothing you could do or say that would make  _ any  _ of us not want to be your friends.” He looked around pointedly and relaxed when he saw Fred, Cedric and Katie nodding fervently.

Hermione took in a deep breath, “Well you know my mum was Aunt Minnie’s sister, Ceres McGonagall, and that she died after giving birth to me and gave me to my adoptive muggle parents. But I’ve never told you who my father was. You probably know him as...You-Know-Who.”

Everyone fell dead silent. Hermione looked down at the table, she had lost them all, she just  _ knew  _ it! She just hoped they’d keep the secret. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes when Katie pulled her into a tight hug. 

“Thank you for trusting us,” she whispered into Hermione’s hair. 

Hermione looked up at her, “Really?”  
“Really.”

“My dad’s a bit of a prat too, you know,” said Cedric, offering Hermione a smile, and she let out a snort.

She looked to Fred and George. “Hermione, are we anything like our mother?”

“Gods no,” Hermione chuckled.

“Besides, what kind of berk judges you for who you’re related to?” said Fred, “If that was the case, we’d still be making up for Aunt Muriel’s general nastiness.” The twins made faces, and Hermione started to laugh. 

“You all are the best, you know that?”

“Of course!” said George, “If we weren’t, who would be?”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she heard a knock at the door. Cedric moved to open it, and a round-faced boy stood in the hall, looking rather sorry.

“H-hi, I’m Neville Longbottom, a-and I’m looking for my lost toad...his name is Trevor?”

Hermione smiled kindly at him, “Sorry, we haven’t seen him. But Katie and I will help you look for him so Fred and George can plan out whatever prank they’re planning to do on the first day of school.”

“Don’t you lovely ladies want to know what’s going on?” George asked.

“Plausible deniability,” said Hermione.

Cedric looked affronted, “What about me?”

“Sucks to suck!” said Katie before pulling Hermione out the compartment and closing the door behind her. “Now what does your toad look like?”

Neville was shaking like a leaf. 

“Hey now,” Hermione said gently, “Don’t be so nervous, it’s okay.”

Neville offered her a grateful smile. “Thanks. Trevor’s my toad, he’s brownish-green I guess? He’s got a wart right over his left eye, if that’s any help.”

“Okay, game plan,” said Katie, pulling Neville and Hermione into a huddle. “We’re each going to take one compartment, that should save us time, okay?”

“Got it,” said Hermione. Neville nodded. Hermione went down to the end of the train car that they were in, and started at that compartment.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was an extraordinary boy. His father was a rather distant man, always busy with work and politics, so Draco was raised primarily by his mother, Narcissa. From the moment Narcissa laid eyes on her only child, her son, she knew that Draco was something rather special. 

Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, was rather gifted in the art of Divination. She was not quite a Seer, but she could see things other people couldn’t; could feel things that went undetected by others. So when she had kissed Draco goodbye on the platform and whispered into his ear that he would meet somebody else who was also rather extraordinary that very day, Draco knew that he would. 

When his father had directed him to seek out Harry Potter on the train, Draco thought that he would be the person his mother spoke of. But when a beautiful young girl with honey brown eyes and bronze curls knocked and opened his compartment door, Draco knew just who his mother had told him about.

“Hello!” she had said breathlessly, before sticking out her hand, “I’m Hermione McGonagall-I’m looking for a boy named Neville Longbottom’s toad. The toad’s name is Trevor, and he has a wart above his left eye. Have you seen him?”

Vince, Greg, Theo, Daphne, and Pansy shook their heads. Draco was relieved none of them were saying much of anything, he didn’t want to scare her off. He took her hand and kissed it, and watched a blush spread across her cheeks. 

“I’m Draco Malfoy,” he said, “And unfortunately, we haven’t seen a toad, but we’ll let you know if we do at any point. These are my friends, Theo Nott, Vince Crabbe, Greg Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson.”

“Well, thanks anyways,” Hermione said, “It was a pleasure to meet you all!” she flashed them a brilliant grin which lit up the whole compartment before turning around and closing the door. And it was at that moment, Draco Malfoy fell head over heels for Hermione McGonagall. 

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “What was  _ that _ about?”

“She’s something special,” said Draco, “I’m going to marry that girl one day.”

* * *

Harry Potter was an extraordinary boy. Raised by Sirius Black, he was rather confident in himself. He was special, of course he was. Sirius was extraordinary as well, so how was there any way for him not to be? He was talking and laughing in a train compartment with a red-haired boy named Ronald Weasley, about Quidditch. 

“I reckon I’ll be on the team in the first year-they’ll call me the youngest Seeker in a century!” Harry declared, before he heard a knock on the door. He opened it, and in came a beautiful young girl with honey brown eyes and bronze curls. 

“Hi, I’m Hermione McGonagall-I’m looking for a boy named Neville Longbottom’s toad. The toad’s name is Trevor and he has a wart above his left eye. Have you seen him?”

Ron shook his head, and Harry replied, “Unfortunately we haven’t,” before pulling her down to sit next to him. 

“Chocolate frog?” he offered her from his mountain of candies. 

“Sure, thanks!” she said, taking it and biting into the piece of chocolate. 

“That’s Ron Weasley, and I’m Harry Potter.”

“Cool!” Hermione flashed them a brilliant grin which lit up the whole compartment. It was at that moment, Harry realized she was like him, she was beautiful, and she was  _ special.  _ “I’m sorry, I’d love to chat, but I promised Neville I’d help him find his toad. It was great meeting you guys!” 

She stood up, and turned on her heel before closing the door. 

Ron watched Harry’s eyes stare at the door long after the McGonagall girl had left. “What was  _ that  _ about?”

“She’s something  _ special _ ,” said Harry, “I’m reckon I’m going to marry her one day.”

* * *

Hermione stood in line for the Sorting Hat, twirling a strand of hair. She was next to Neville, who had finally found his toad, Trevor, an hour before the train arrived at the station, and a girl with blonde hair and brown eyes and a name she didn’t know. She waited as names were called one by one-apparently her name was Lavender Brown-and the line grew shorter and shorter. Neville went into Gryffindor, where Katie cheered loudly for the bashful boy they had befriended. Draco Malfoy went to Slytherin, where the entire house seemed to come alive to clap and cheer for him when he was sorted within what Hermione would guess would be record time. The hat hadn’t even touched his head before declaring him to be Slytherin. 

“McGonagall, Hermione!” Aunt Minnie yelled out. 

Hermione made her way up to the Sorting Hat and her Aunt, who offered her a broad smile and a squeeze to the shoulder, before placing the hat atop her head. 

_ “Heir to Slytherin, but the heart of a Gryffindor! Now, where to put you…”  _ Hermione fidgeted upon the stool.  _ “Mmmmmm, you do have the brain of a Ravenclaw! Would you fit in there?” _

Hermione bit her lip,  _ “Please put me where I need to be.” _

_ “That’s a rather Slytherin approach,”  _ chuckled the hat,  _ “But it is rather refreshing to not have some student trying to argue their way into a house...I think you belong in- _ GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione pulled the hat off of her head, and hugged her Aunt tightly, before making her way over to the Gryffindor table. Katie and the twins were sitting together, and making the most noise they could possibly make. Hermione grinned. So this was home.

* * *

When Pansy got sorted into Slytherin, she gave Draco a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “Just because she’s a Gryffindor and you’re a Slytherin doesn’t mean anything’s over before it’s started.”

* * *

Harry Potter grinned when Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor. Good. He’d be able to woo her there easily. When his name was called, he strode up to the Sorting Hat before putting it on his head. The Sorting Hat tried to talk to him but was interrupted by a stream of-

“ _ Gryffindor Gryffindor Gryffindor Gryffindor Gryffindor, Gryffindorgryffindorgryffindor _ _ Gryffindorgryffindor” _

“ _ Oh  _ **_alright_ ** _! Not like I wasn’t going to put you there in the first place.  _ GRYFFINDOR!”

As Harry walked to the Gryffindor table, which was cheering loudly,  _ of course they were _ , he flashed his most charming grin at Hermione.

* * *

Every morning, for breakfast, Draco watched Harry Bloody Potter ask out Hermione McGonagall. And every morning (thank the gods) she said no. It was around Christmastime when she finally completely snapped.

Hermione was talking animatedly with Katie. It was, so far, a good day. Sure, in part that was because Harry Potter had not asked her out (yet-but he normally had by this time so Hermione thought she was in the clear), but Hermione was looking forward to an absolutely wonderful day-she had Potions and Transfiguration in the morning, before Double Herbology in the afternoon. Wednesdays were truly amazing. 

She looked up when she heard somebody clear their throat, and tore herself away from her conversation with Katie over if Aconite and Wolfsbane should be called the same thing, or categorized differently but as a subfamily of the other. And there was Harry Potter, who had somehow managed to magically amplify his voice. 

“HERMIONE MCGONAGALL,” he said, and the hall went quiet, “WILL YOU MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST MAN ON EARTH, AND MARRY ME?”  
Hermione looked in horror at the diamond ring he was proposing with. “Harry Potter, just _where_ did you get that ring?”

“IS THAT A YES?” he grinned cheekily.

“Answer the bloody question.”

“IT’S FROM MY GRINGOTTS VAULT! I’LL GIVE YOU ALL THE JEWELRY IN THERE!”

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her temples. “Why did you think I would say  _ yes _ to a  _ marriage proposal, _ after I’ve said  _ no  _ many  _ many _ times when you ask me out?”

“I DUNNO,” Harry shrugged, “BUT WHY WOULD ANYONE TURN DOWN A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL FROM ME?”

“Why would I say yes?”

“BECAUSE I’M SPECIAL, AND YOU’RE SPECIAL. SO WE BELONG TOGETHER.” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“No!” With that she turned on her heel and stalked out of the Great Hall. 

“YOU’LL SAY YES ONE DAY!”

While Harry was focused on trying to charm his way into Katie’s good graces, she glared at him, with the heat of Fiendfyre, but across the Hall was Draco, also glaring at Harry, and if looks could kill, the Boy-Who-Lived would’ve been dead a hundred times over. 

And that was the day Draco challenged Harry to a duel in the Trophy Room at midnight before backing out and having him get caught by Filch, and they became sworn enemies.


	3. The Third Seed

The first three years of Hogwarts passed Hermione in a blur. Harry Potter (unfortunately) kept proposing to her and asking her out. Harry Potter (unfortunately) would declare his love for her in ridiculous fashion across the Great Hall. Harry Potter (unfortunately) would send her a hundred roses. Every. Valentines. Day. But she excelled in her classes, and was top of her year. She grew even closer and closer to Neville, as well as Katie, the twins, and Cedric. She also was working on a garden in each of the courtyards-a passion project of hers that she spent her free time during the summers on. 

The first three years of Hogwarts passed Harry in a blur. Hermione McGonagall (unfortunately) hadn’t yet accepted any of his proposals. Hermione McGonagall (unfortunately) had not realized that they were meant to be yet. Hermione McGonagall (unfortunately) hexed him every time he asked her out and even pushed him into the shallow end of the Black Lake when he asked her out while she was reading on the shore. But that convinced Harry even more that she was special, that they were meant to be. Everyone knew that’s how his mother eventually fell for his father, so of course it would work for him. He was the Seeker on the Quidditch team, and the best one Hogwarts had seen, if he might say so himself. He was also immensely popular, along with his best friend, Ron Weasley. 

The first three years of Hogwarts passed Draco in a blur. Harry Potter (unfortunately) kept asking out the girl he was in love with. Hermione McGonagall (fortunately) kept saying no. But Draco Malfoy (unfortunately) was completely unable to talk to Hermione. Of course, she’d smile at him sometimes, and they’d make small talk, but every single time, they were interrupted-by Katie Bell, by the Weasley twins, by Neville Longbottom, but most often by (unfortunately) Harry Bloody Potter. But he was hoping his luck would change this year. He was the Seeker on the Quidditch team. He was well liked among the Slytherins. Now if only he could talk to Hermione McGonagall.

* * *

When Aunt Minnie had taken Hermione Dress-Robe shopping the summer before fourth year, Hermione had rolled her eyes. “We barely go to any functions that require dress robes! I can just re-wear something!” But Aunt Minnie had insisted. 

It was the night before the start of school when Minerva had told Hermione that they were hosting the Triwizard Championship, and so the pieces fell into place.

“So they’re for a Ball then?” Hermione asked. 

On the train ride to Hogwarts, Hermione shared the information with her friends, and turned to Cedric. “They’re going to have a Yule Ball, Cedric. And the second that it’s announced Potter’s going to ask me out, and he’s going to keep asking until I say I’m going with somebody. Fred and George are already dating Angelina and Alicia, and Neville’s had a crush on Hannah Abbott for ages.” Neville reddened. “Oh Nev, we all already knew, you should go for her!” She turned back to Cedric. “I know you’re not dating anybody, and you don’t have a crush on anyone?” Cedric shook his head. “Okay, good. Can you please go to the Yule Ball with me? You’re like a brother I never had, and I wouldn’t put it off Potter to scare off literally anybody else who tried to ask me.”

Cedric grinned, “Sure, Hermione. Maybe he’ll tone it down this year?”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Somebody’s delusional.”

* * *

It was Halloween night when the Goblet of Fire spit out four names for the _Tri_ wizard tournament. From Beauxbatons was a Veela named Fleur, from Durmstrang was the International Quidditch Star, Viktor Krum, and from Hogwarts it was Cedric. 

Hermione was on her feet cheering for Cedric when his name was called, screaming and shouting her approval the whole time he got up from the Hufflepuff table to the time he disappeared into a doorway where the previous champions had gone. 

And that is when the Goblet came alive yet again. 

And of course, it was Bloody Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry Potter bragged about how he tricked his name into the Goblet for a month straight. And of course, he also thought this was another reason why Hermione should go out with him. 

Hermione _also_ found out that the first task was dragons, as Harry had privately bragged to her that he had snuck out to see them with his Invisibility Cloak. Although she wanted nothing more than to hex him mute and turn him in for _sneaking out of the castle with an INVISIBILITY CLOAK,_ she figured that since he _was_ indirectly helping Cedric, she wouldn’t do it, but just this one time. Of course, to Harry that meant that she was not in denial of her feelings, and the proposals doubled. 

The First Task was a thrilling event to watch, and Hermione was immensely proud of Cedric for doing so well, and rushed him in the Champion’s tent, hugging him tightly. 

When the Yule Ball was announced, it was in a Transfiguration Class, with Gryffindor and Slytherin. The moment Aunt Minnie had _announced_ said Yule Ball, Harry Potter shouted across the classroom, “Hermione McGonagall, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

She of course said no. In the corridors, when he pressed further, she told him she was already going with someone. 

The night of the Yule Ball was absolutely enchanting. Hermione had danced with so many people that she felt as if her feet were going to fall off, and had managed to only have to dance with Harry Potter once. So overall, it was quite a win in her opinion. 

One of the high points of the night was when she danced with Draco Malfoy. She didn’t know him terribly well, but in the classes that they shared, he always did really well, which was something Hermione could appreciate. While they were dancing, Hermione also realized that she hadn’t known how _tall_ the boy was, how _handsome_ he was. When the song was over, Hermione found herself wishing that she could’ve danced with him for the rest of the night.

* * *

Draco Malfoy spun Hermione McGonagall in his arms, and it felt like everything in the universe was right where it was supposed to be. 

“So you and Diggory then?” Draco asked, a bit of a lump in his throat. 

“Merlin, no!” she laughed, “He’s like a brother to me. I needed someone to get Potter to back off a bit. I was worried he’d threaten anyone else who wanted to ask me, so I’d have no choice but to go with him. Being the Boy-Who-Lived and all that makes it all the easier to scare everyone off.”

“I don’t think he can scare _everyone_ off.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Well if you find this mysterious man who can stand up to Potter’s harassment, let me know. Hogsmeade dates have been rather lacking when Potter duels everyone who asks me.”

“You know, for all of his faults, Potter is right about one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“You’re smart and special and kind and the most beautiful girl in the world,” he whispered into her ear.

She blushed before smiling at him, and as always, her smile lit up the room. “Thank you. You’re rather handsome, yourself.”

Long after the song was over and he had to trade her into another man’s arms, he kept her words close to his chest, and they echoed throughout his heart. It didn’t matter that she was dancing with Viktor Krum right now, before being traded off to Roger Davies. She noticed him. 

* * *

Draco watched her. He had always watched her. How could he not? She was the sun, the moon and the stars-she lit up the world around her. 

He watched her twirl a lock of hair around her finger when she was nervous. He watched her bite her lip when she was deep in thought. He watched her scrunch her nose and furrow her brow when she was confused.

How she drew flowers in the margins of her notes. How when she knew the answer to a question she would glance around the classroom to see if anybody else had their hand raised before raising her own. How she would read in the nook in the library by the window where sunlight came in in droves. How her eyes lit up when she talked to her friends. How you could always tell her Aunt had gotten her a new book, as she’d carry it around and read it at every spare moment until she had finished it. How she had created a list of the books left in the library she hadn’t yet read, and would ask Madam Pince for her recommendation before plucking the book off of the shelf. How she was like fireworks in the Greenhouses, in the gardens. How she would push her sleeves up and put her knees in the soil, tying her hair up and sticking her wand in it, and then would start tending to the plants. 

How she could talk for hours and hours about anything-and he would let her, just to hear her voice. How she would have spirited debates with him in Potions, across the classroom, over various ideas and techniques of brewing or preparing ingredients. How she would always write an essay with a Sugar Quill, and how she would always finish the quill the moment she finished her essay. How she would come up with the most creative hexes to use on Potter, leaving him covered in flowers the whole day after asking her out or making birds fly out of his nose. How her eyes sparkled whenever she laughed. How every time she smiled, the world stopped spinning just for her. 

* * *

Potter won the tournament, because of course he did. By the time Hermione got back to Gryffindor tower, it was a madhouse-people swinging from the ceilings, music blaring, and alcohol flowing freely. The moment she opened the portrait and saw the circus that was led by Harry Potter himself, Hermione turned on her heel and headed straight to the greenhouses. 

By that time, the sun was peeking from underneath the trees, and dusk was starting to settle in. The greenhouse was bright and inviting, and the wild honeysuckle scent permeated the night. 

The scent reminded her of the Yule Ball, and her mind drifted back to that night. One part of that night, in particular-the dance with Draco Malfoy. She had thought of that moment, of that feeling almost every single day since it had happened. How his grey eyes looked like fallen snow, ebbed in ice blue and the slightest tinge of onyx. How warm his hand felt on her waist. How being in his arms for those moments felt right, felt like coming home. How after speaking to him for the first time for more than a quick sentence, she was madly in love with him. 

She had watched him since then, out of the corner of her eye. How he looked when bent over a cauldron, looking effortlessly beautiful as the smoke wafted around him like a halo. How he flew once a week on Wednesday nights on the Quidditch Pitch, looking like he was born to fly, like he was a bird careening through the sky, dipping and curving through the clouds. How he always seemed to be near, like a guardian angel. How everything he did felt _right._ Made her feel as if everything in the world was _right._

About half an hour in, Hermione heard a rustling from outside the greenhouse. “Potter, I swear to the gods if that’s you, I’m going to hang you upside down from the Astronomy Tower. You won. Bully for you. There’s my congratulations, now go _away_.” She heard muffled laughter. “Potter, I’m going to start casting in 3...2…-”

Somebody came into the greenhouse, somebody who _wasn’t_ Harry Potter. 

Draco was standing in the doorway with his hands raised in surrender. “Don’t shoot!”

Hermione grinned, “You know, you’re pretty lucky I looked before I started casting.”

“I figured. What were you thinking of casting?”

“I was going to turn your hair into a bed of flowers. It’s a spell Katie and I have been working on, Neville’s been our lovely test subject. See, it turns your hair into flowers, and it changes from person to person for whatever reason. Katie and I haven’t exactly been able to figure that out yet. See, Neville’s hair turns to dandelions, but when we tried it on Katie, hers was a bunch of roses, and mine was lavender. I think I want to like maybe try and run tests and experiments on it to see if it has any correlation with anything, you know? I don’t know it just seems really cool to me, and whenever I can’t figure something out I kind of just barrel through it until I can find an answer.” Hermione realized she was still talking, and flushed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you with me prattling on about Herbology.”

Draco offered her a smile, “I don’t mind, truly.”

Hermione laughed, “You don’t have to be polite.”

“I’m serious!” he said, “The way you talk is just so fascinating. I always see you talking in the morning with your friends and it’s just like you’re so _alive_ when you talk.” It was his turn to flush. “Wow, I probably sound like a complete stalker.”

She shook her head, smiling, “No, it’s alright. You’re just observant. I wish I was more observant, sometimes I just talk and talk and I get lost in my own world.”

Draco glanced at her and then back at the door. “Don’t let me being here interrupt whatever you were doing-I can leave if you want?”

“No!” Hermione’s voice softened as she blushed self-consciously, “Please stay.”

Draco walked over and took off his outer robes before sitting down next to Hermione. “So what are you down here for? I’m sure there’s some big celebration in Gryffindor right now.”

Hermione made a face. “Exactly. It’s not quite my cup of tea, you know?” she said as she started pulling weeds, “All the loud music and the big fuss? And Harry Potter at the center of it all-it’s not something I’m particularly fond of.” She shrugged self-consciously. “I mean I like people, that’s not the problem there, but I’d rather you know talk and get to know them? I mean I’m sure the twins are probably having a great time, that’s more of their thing anyways. Katie’ll probably have a drink or two to celebrate being done with fifth year and OWLs.

“Do you ever drink?”

“Aw with Aunt Minnie? ‘Course, we’re Scots. She’s big on Firewhiskey, but I’m still getting used to the taste.”

“Professor McGonagall downs Firewhisky?”

Hermione threw her head back and laughed, “Like you wouldn’t believe. When she’s really drunk she’ll start singing these old drinking songs in Gaelic-” she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, she’d just kill me if she found out I was saying all this to someone.”

Draco grinned wryly, “I’ll keep it a secret.” Hermione laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m more surprised you call her your Aunt Minnie. I mean I can’t imagine Professor McGonagall letting people call her ‘Minnie.’”

Hermione grinned, “I’m the only one allowed to call her that, I guess. The twins also call her Minnie sometimes, which she _says_ she hates, but I think she secretly likes it. The only other people allowed to call her that are her old school friends, anyways,” she looked around conspiratorially, “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Augusta Longbottom, Amelia Bones, Madame Pomfrey and my Aunt Minnie get absolutely ridiculously drunk and gossip about Headmaster Dumbledore and their old school days together.”

“No!”

Hermione wore a Cheshire Cat’s grin. “Yes.”

“So where exactly did you grow up? Did you live in the castle with Professor McGonagall?”

“Well, actually, I grew up in Muggle London, with my adoptive parents. See, my mum had died after giving birth to me and had asked them to take me in until I was eleven so I wouldn’t have to grow up around the war. She didn’t tell them very much, just to start looking for a Minerva McGonagall on my eleventh birthday, and it would hopefully be safe for me to live with her by then. So when Aunt Minnie showed up to deliver my letter, she recognized me, and since my birthday’s in September, I lived with her in Hogwarts the year before I was a student. That’s how I became friends with most of my group, anyways. I was also friends with a seventh year named Nymphadora Tonks-she was an metamorphmagus and would hex anybody sideways if you called her Nymphadora. She became an Auror this year, and we write to each other pretty often.” Draco had a strange look on his face. “Oh, sorry for prattling on and I’ve probably annoyed you haven’t I and-”

“No,” he cut her off, “No, like I said, I like listening to you talk. It’s just Nymphadora Tonks is kind of my cousin.”

“How’s someone kind of your cousin?”

Draco grimaced, “My mother’s sister, Andromeda, got disowned for running off with a muggle-born and having a baby. Most people in the Black Family are kind of really prejudiced against muggle-borns, so my mother would’ve gotten disowned as well for talking to Andromeda, at least until the last Head of House died and it passed to Sirius Black. But I mean that wasn’t until like maybe five years ago, so how exactly are you supposed to restart a relationship with your sister after not talking to her for fifteen years?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you don’t have to apologize for it.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Hermione looked up at Draco. “What time is it?”

“10:30-dammit! Any chance you can get Filch to ignore us being out after curfew?”

Hermione bit her lip, “No, probably not. I mean maybe curfew will be a bit different tonight since they just had the third task?”

“Well, here’s hoping.”

He grabbed his robes off of the ground and offered Hermione a hand. She took it gratefully and stood up, her hands and knees covered in soil, and a smear of dirt across her cheek. As they started walking back up to the castle, Hermione laughed. “Gods, I must look like such a mess.”

“You don’t.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie, I bet I’ve got dirt somewhere on my face.”

“Maybe, but you still look beautiful.” Hermione blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Draco slowly cupped his hand around her face and left it there for a moment, and their eyes met. He slowly wiped away the bit of dirt with his thumb, never letting go of her face, and her lips parted slightly, and she leaned into him. 

“Well isn’t this wonderful?” 

Hermione and Draco jerked away from each other, and Draco turned towards the noise, shielding her with his body. “Who are you?”

The voice had come from a man with dark hair and blue eyes, someone undeniably handsome, someone ageless. He wore expensive dress robes and a predatory smile. “You look just like Lucius. I’m surprised your father didn’t tell you what was happening tonight. After all, he was a key player.”

“Key player in _what_?” 

“Why, bringing me back to life of course.”

Draco’s jaw dropped. Whoever this was...well if he was associated with his father, Draco didn’t want to expose Hermione to him.

“And who is the girl you’re hiding?”

“I won’t-”

“Draco, stop it.” Hermione stepped out from behind him. 

_“Gods above, you look just like... who_ are _you?”_ the man said.

 _“My name is Hermione McGonagall. Now we’re going to be on our way now, thank you very much.”_ Hermione realized both men were staring at her. “What?”

“That, my dear, was Parseltongue.” The man had a look of something-was it awe?-on his face

“No, it wasn’t,” Hermione said annoyedly. “It was English. Which was what you spoke in. You know, the Queen’s English? Pip pip cheerio, and all that?”

The man chuckled, “That was Parseltongue.”

“Well how do you know?” 

Draco looked on silently, rather horrified. 

“Because I can speak Parseltongue, so therefore so can you.”  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well by that logic, why isn’t Draco speaking Parseltongue then? Draco, go on, give him a hiss! Say something a snake would say.”

“He can’t,” the man was amused, like he was in on a joke nobody else knew.

“Well why not?”

“Because Parseltongue is passed on to families. Well, only one family really. So of course, my daughter would be able to speak Parseltongue.”

Hermione’s face drained of any color, and her hands started to shake. “That’s _really_ funny, _really really_ funny, you know that?” She seemed as if she was trying to convince herself of something, but was obviously failing. 

“I’m not the expert on this, but I believe that you hug your father the first time you meet them.”

Hermione spun around and started sprinting as fast as she could towards the castle, magic pulsing from her, manifesting in the trail of flowers that bloomed in her wake.

“Who are you?” Draco asked again, holding his wand tightly, pointing it at the mysterious man.

“Come on, Draco, you’re a bright boy, I’m sure. Put it all together.”

Realization dawned on Draco’s face. “You’re the Dark Lord.”

“5 points to Slytherin,” Voldemort grinned. “Now, I’m sure you want to run along, go after my daughter. Tell her I won’t hurt her, and that we have fifteen years worth of catching up to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things I need to do, a few stops to make. Be on the lookout for the Daily Prophet tomorrow, it’s going to be rather interesting.” And with that, he disappeared into the night, leaving Draco behind with more questions than he had answers to.


	4. The Fourth Seed

Hermione tore through the castle, biting on her fist to muffle her sobs so that they wouldn’t echo throughout the castle. She arrived at the Professor’s Quarters and found her Aunt’s room, and tumbled in. Minerva McGonagall was sipping a cup of tea, her hand shaking and her face pale, when she looked up to see her niece trembling in her doorway. 

She cast her Patronus-a cat-and said “Find Katie Bell, guide her through the castle to come here, please.”

She swept Hermione into her arms, cradling the girl’s body against hers. “My beautiful girl.”

Ten minutes later, Katie came bursting through the door. “What’s wrong?” She saw Hermione’s form rocking against McGonagall’s, shaking in tears. “Oh,  _ Hermione, _ ” Katie said as she took Hermione from Minerva. “What happened?”

“Voldemort’s back,” Hermione whispered brokenly.

Katie looked to her Professor. “Unfortunately so, and Headmaster Dumbledore has been killed.”

“I was out in the Greenhouses, because of the party in the common room and all that, you know? Draco Malfoy ended up joining me and we talked for a bit, and then we started walking back to the castle and  _ h-he  _ came out of nowhere and then started speaking Parseltongue, and-and I started speaking back, a-and I didn’t  _ know _ what it was, I thought it was  _ English _ and then he realized who I was and said he was my  _ father  _ and then _ I  _ realized  _ who he was and I ran _ , and I-I was so scared, and everyone’s going to  _ hate me, and Draco’s going to hate me and everyone’s going to think I’m evil!” _ Hermione’s sobbing started anew and Katie started rubbing circles on her back.

“Sh, it’s okay,” she murmured, “Nobody’s going to hate you. I’ll hex them sideways if they do. You’re well known and well liked by a lot of people. You are not your father.” She turned to Minerva. “How is he alive?”

“We aren’t exactly sure, we just know it was a ritual involving an enemy’s life to be forfeit-Headmaster Dumbledore was probably who Voldemort thought was his biggest enemy.”

“Gods above,” whispered Katie, “What is the world going to come to?”

* * *

Harry Potter was eating breakfast when the Daily Prophet arrived. Despite the late nights everybody had probably had-celebrating him of course-they were all at breakfast. All except for the one that was the most important. Harry resolved that he would find Hermione after breakfast, and ask her out. After all, how could she say no to the Winner of the Triwizard Tournament? He opened up the newspaper, prepared to see his smiling face holding the Triwizard Trophy. That, however, was not what he was greeted by.

**You-Know-Who Back?**

**Albus Dumbledore Dead From Freak Spell Accident!**

**You-Know-Who’s Daughter: Hermione McGonagall**

Harry read the headlines and dropped the paper in shock. Whispers started to grow into murmurs and then shouts across the Great Hall. This wouldn’t do. Harry cast a Silencing Spell on the room, and a  _ Sonorous  _ charm upon himself, and hopped onto the table. 

“Listen up!” Everyone turned to look at him. “I know what the paper says. But you know what we’re NOT gonna do? We’re not going to judge Hermione for who her father is. That means jack. And if it means jack to me, the guy who defeated Voldemort the first time around, then it means nothing to the rest of you! We aren’t our parents. We aren’t our parents' crimes. If that were the case, there wouldn’t be a House Slytherin.” he ignored the glares from the Slytherin table. 

“In Star Wars, Luke and Leia’s father is Darth Vader. But they’re still good people. And did Han Solo care that Leia’s dad was an evil megalomaniac murderer? No, of course not! He cared about who  _ Leia  _ was, and then he probably married her and then they had a bunch of kids together and lived happily ever after. Obviously, I’m Han Solo and Hermione’s Leia.”

“Anyways, Hermione is the same person we’ve always known. She always helps anyone who needs it. Like I know that every OWL year, she’s helped the fifth years study. Or that she shows first-years where to go when they’re lost, even if they’re Slytherins.” Again, he ignored the glares from Slytherin.

“Hermione isn’t here right now because she’s probably in her dorms, upset that everyone found out her dad’s an evil dictator wannabe. Who wouldn’t be? So when she comes out, we’re all going to be nice, okay?”

He hopped down from the table, and cancelled both charms. The hall stayed silent. 

“Can some Muggle-born please properly explain to me what Star Wars is?” asked a very confused Theodore Nott. And just like that the tension was broken and everyone started laughing. 

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed, locked in her dorm room. She heard a knock on the door. Slowly, she got up and opened the door. It was Harry Potter.

“If you’re here to rescind every declaration of love you’ve ever made-”

“No, of course not!” he cried, horrified at the thought.

Hermione looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “You read the Prophet?”

“Yeah, and?” That was all that it took for Hermione to burst into tears again. “Hey, hey, hey,” he gently led her to sit on her bed, “It’s okay.” She looked down at her hands, and paused before she took a deep breath and started to speak.

“You know, I didn’t even know who my father was until my eleventh birthday,” Hermione said in a small voice. “I lived with my adoptive parents until my Aunt Minnie showed up to deliver my letter. We went to Gringotts to find out who my father was, because she didn’t know who he was, either. Just that he was on the other side of the war. She had to explain to me who he was. I said that I thought his name sounded stupid.” A choked laugh escaped her throat. “I mean what kind of a name is Voldemort, anyways? We decided not to tell anyone except for some of my very closest friends. I mean what are you supposed to do, like say ‘Hi my name’s Hermione, and my dad’s a mass murdering genocidal evil wizard who left so much fear and hurt that over a decade later, people are still scared to say his name.’” She let out a sigh.

“I told everyone that they have to be nice to you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “I know,” and grinned. “I’m not going to have people talk that way about the future Mrs. Potter.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but a grin tugged on the corner of her mouth. “And if I never become Lady Potter?”

“Blasphemy!” he laughed. “But I suppose if the impossible did happen, I don’t think people should talk that way about you. You’re too nice for that.”

“Even when I’m hexing you?”

“Especially when you’re hexing me! That’s entertainment right there, for everyone!” Harry ran his hand through his hair. “Plus all the spells and charms you invent are pretty cool, too. You’re really smart to be able to do that. I wish I could create a spell.”

“What would you want to do?”

“I’d either make Snape have to do a jig and sing sea shanties all day or I’d set off fireworks in the Great Hall to ask you out to Hogsmeade.”

Hermione snorted, “I can see how both of those would be equally tempting for you.”

* * *

The next day, Katie came into the dormroom, which was now unlocked. Most of Gryffindor tower had come through and talked to Hermione, offering sympathy. For once in her life, Hermione was grateful for Harry Potter. 

“Draco Malfoy’s outside the portrait demanding to speak to you,” Katie was smiling like the cat that caught the canary. 

“Oh?” Hermione looked up.

“Oh?” Katie echoed, “Got anything to tell me? Things that happened last night? Didn’t you say he ended up joining you in the greenhouse?” Hermione blushed, and Katie’s jaw dropped, before she raced across the room, wrapping her arms around Hermione like a vice. “Oh, my baby’s got a  _ crush! _ ” She pulled away and held Hermione at an arm’s length. “Now tell me  _ everything _ .”

Hermione couldn’t have possibly been redder. She decided that stalling would be a  _ fantastic  _ idea. “Isn’t Draco waiting outside for me?”

Katie waved her hand away, “He’s been waiting for half an hour now, says he won’t leave until he speaks to you. He can wait for another ten minutes.”

“Ka-tie!”

“Her- _ mione _ !”

“I hate you!”

Katie rolled her eyes, “That’s a lie, you absolutely love me. Now tell me everything.”

Hermione sighed, “Fine. He came into the greenhouse last night while I was avoiding the party, and I thought he was Potter at first so I threatened to hex him. That turned into a conversation about the spell we’ve been working on, and more stuff, I guess, and it was just so easy to talk to him,” Hermione said as she started twirling a strand of hair. “It felt right or something like talking to him was something supposed to be, like fate or something. That sounds so stupid.” She rolled her eyes. “Gods, I hate Divination but now I’m talking about Fate like Trelawney.”

Katie smiled and rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes, we all know you hate Divination. What happened after that?”

“Well, we were walking back to the castle and I said that I probably looked like a mess and had dirt all over my face, and he said that I looked beautiful.” She blushed again. “And then he took his thumb to wipe away the dirt and then, well, I think we were maybe about to kiss? But then V-Voldemort showed up.” 

Katie looked incensed. “How dare he stop you from getting your first kiss! Forget everything else, I’m going to kill him just for that!”

Hermione pushed Katie on the arm, half-heartedly. “What was weird was that He seemed surprised Draco didn’t know that he was going to be resurrected, and said his father was a key player in it or something.”

“What?” Katie looked up sharply.

“But Draco was really surprised by it, he even tried to like keep me out of his line of vision at first. Draco didn’t even know who he was. I mean I didn’t either.”

Katie looked less alarmed, but still seemed a bit worried. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want You-Know-Who to get his hands on you through the Malfoys.”

“He won’t!” Hermione defended hotly, “Draco wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I know,” said Katie placantantly, her hands up. “Just please be careful for me, okay? What was that thing Dora said Moody constantly said?” she furrowed her brow in concentration, before her eyes lit up. “Constant vigilance!”

Hermione softened, “I will.” They sat together for a moment in silence.

Katie nudged Hermione with her shoulder, “I’d say you’re pretty into Draco, then, for just having spoken to him for more than a couple of sentences outside of class once, then, huh?”

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear. “He actually danced with me at the Yule Ball too.”

“Tell me everything!”

“There’s not much to tell,” Hermione shrugged, self-consciously, “Well, he asked if Cedric and I were a thing.” She made a face. “And then when I explained to him the situation, he said that there were some boys who wouldn’t let Potter threaten them into never asking me out, and that I was smart, and special, and beautiful.” When she finished, her face was absolutely pink.

“Not much to tell?” Katie gasped, “That’s  _ so much _ , Hermione! Wait a minute… you really really like him don’t you? Hermione! Are you in love with him?” Hermione flushed and nodded. “Ah!!! My baby girl is in  _ loooooove _ !” Katie pulled Hermione close into a bone-crushing hug, before pulling back suddenly. “We can’t keep him waiting a second longer!”

Katie sprang up and pulled Hermione by the arm through the common room, like a woman possessed. She opened up the portrait and pushed Hermione through, quite literally into Draco’s arms. “I want her back by dinner, young man,” she said to Draco.

“Yes ma’am,” Draco smirked, as the portrait was closed.

Hermione blushed when she realized Draco was still holding her, and (reluctantly) stepped out, so she was standing on her own. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Sorry about Hurricane Katie there.”

Draco grinned, “She reminds me a bit of you. In the energy, a bit, when you talk about something you’re passionate about.” His tone turned serious. “Are you okay?”

Hermione tugged on a strand of hair. “I guess. I mean not really, but I mean, people don’t hate me, so there’s that I guess.”

“Yeah, Potter made this speech at breakfast yesterday about how we shouldn’t judge you based off of who your father was. It was a pretty good speech. I mean granted, he insulted the entire house of Slytherin twice and then started saying you were the Han to his Leia from this thing called Star Wars, but it seemed to reassure everyone that you weren’t…”

“Evil?” Draco winced, and Hermione shrugged self-consciously.

“Well you aren’t!” said Draco, impassioned, “You’re kind and sweet, and-” he cut himself off.

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled, shyly. 

She realized that they were at the top of the Astronomy tower. Draco was looking out into the distance, a smile on his face. “This is my favorite place in the castle,” he confessed. “I got really lost one night as a first year, and I wound up here. I don’t care for the class, but I’d take it just to be able to see the view.”

Hermione climbed up onto an open window that looked out onto the Scottish countryside, and Draco followed her. In a split second decision, he wrapped his arm around her, and they sat there, admiring the view for a moment. It was Hermione who broke the silence.

“Did Voldemort say anything to you after I left?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably, “Not much, just that he wouldn’t hurt you and that he wanted to speak to you.”

“I won’t.”

“I know.”

“I could never join his cause or think the way that he thinks, how could I?”

Draco rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. “I know.” He paused. “He said something about my father. I know that he followed him during the War.” He looked down. “I don’t want to be like him.”

“I know.” He looked up. Hermione blushed. “I don’t know how exactly I know, but I do.” She paused. “This is going to sound so stupid.”

“No,” Draco said reassuringly.

“I don’t know… it just feels like my soul knows yours.” She didn’t look up, worried at what she might find in his face. “I know-that probably sounds stupid and you don’t-”

He pulled her head up gently, and cut her off, his mouth meeting hers. Hermione froze for a second, before responding, causing Draco’s kiss to grow hungrier, more dominant. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, a small moan escaped her mouth, and emboldened, Draco kissed her like she was water in the desert, his saving grace, his hands tangled in her hair. When he finally pulled back, she blushed and looked down. 

“Wow,” she said in a small voice, her smile like a  _ lumos _ . 

Draco ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Really?” asked Hermione, still pink, “How long?”

“Since the first time I saw you on the Hogwarts Express.”

She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, before shyly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That was my first kiss,” she confessed.

Draco’s lips crashed into hers, like a wave upon the beach at high tide, pulling her closer into him. “I want to be the only person to ever kiss you,” he whispered huskily in her ear. “I want to be your first and your last and everything in between.”

“Don’t say things you aren’t sure of,” she looked imploringly into his eyes.

“I never promise something I don’t mean, little love.”

“Ever?” she breathed.

“Ever.”

* * *

She watched the Hogwarts Express roll away from the station, her face still pink from the passionate kiss Draco had given her on the platform in front of everyone, before pulling away.

“I don’t quite know if you know this, Hermione McGonagall,” he said, “But I love you.”

She fell into him, kissing him soundly on the tips of her toes, before whispering, “I love you too.”

“I’ll write to you every day this summer,” he promised, before stepping onto the train. The Hogwarts Express chugged away in a cloud of smoke, leaving Hermione in the wake, lovestruck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait-I totally got caught up with school and forgot to post. Chapter 5 will be up on Sunday and I have Chapter 6 but I'm not super fond of it so I'm probably going to try and rewrite that before posting it.


	5. The Fifth Seed

Hermione’s summer was especially full that year. She had walked back up to Hogwarts, in her own haze of pure bliss. As she twirled throught the Great Hall, a big, stupid smile on her face, Minerva smiled knowingly.

“Draco said that he loved me,” Hermione swooned.

“Of course he did,” Minerva chuckled, “The boy’s been in love with you since first year.”

“He’s watched you since then, too, you know,” Poppy Pomfrey twinkling, “And if I’m not mistaken, you’ve been watching him since the Yule Ball.”

Hermione blushed, and her eyes swept the room before landing on the Headmaster’s empty seat. Her face fell. “I feel terrible, feeling so happy when there’s so much bad going on right now.”

Minerva followed her line of vision, before smiling sadly. “Albus would’ve felt that in the middle of darkness, a bit of light might be what we all need.”

The headmaster’s funeral had been two days before, and hadn’t been a very somber affair, instead, it was a celebration of his life, and all that he had accomplished. After all, very few people knew the true details of his demise, and Minerva had felt that Albus wouldn't have wanted himself to be remembered at his funeral in grief-rather through a great joyous occasion. 

“Who’s going to be the new Headmaster, then?”

“That would be me,” Hermione turned around to see Amelia Bones, standing in the doorway, smiling. Her niece, and Hermione’s classmate, Susan Bones, was standing next to her. Hermione had met Amelia before through Aunt Minnie, as they had been old school friends, and was friendly acquaintances with Susan. 

“Hello, Headmaster Bones,” Hermione smiled.

Amelia waved her hand. “None of that, call me Amelia, I’ve known you since you were eleven, and you’ve seen me drunk off of my ass. There’s no need for formalities. How are you, dear, with all the news that’s come out?”

Hermione flushed, “I’m alright. I mean, people’ve been really understanding and helpful. Harry Potter made a statement in the Prophet and everything in my defense, which was really kind of him to do, and well…” she trailed off in embarrassment.

Susan smiled cheekily, “What she’s meaning to say is that she’s got Draco Malfoy, a boyfriend who is  _ madly  _ in love with her, and quite nice looking too, for a boy.” At Minerva’s confused look she winked, “I’m not very into boys, if you catch my drift.”

“Ah,” Minerva smiled knowingly. “Good for you. Men are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Aye, lassie, hear that?” came a gruff voice. The source was Auror Moody, who was standing next to a grinning-

“Dora!” Hermione cried out and launched herself at her friend. “Why are you here?”  
“Well,” Tonks smiled, “I’m going to be teaching first through third year Defense, and Moody here’s teaching fourth through seventh.”

“Tonks here tells me that you’re a quick study,” Moody grinned at Hermione, “I’ll be training you and Bones up during this summer then.”

Tonks burst into laughter, “I feel sorry for you two now!”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of it either, Tonks!”

* * *

That was one of the best summers of Hermione’s life. Although she ran herself ragged day after day between Moody’s training and pushing her magic to her limits, she couldn’t have been happier. She was more than thrilled to be able to see Dora again, and the two quickly caught up on what they hadn’t said in letters. Hermione and Susan had also become fast friends, both being avid lovers of the outdoors, and the three would explore the Forbidden Forest during the day-with permission of course-and camp out in fields overnight, and make s’mores, and talk about everything and nothing. True to his word, Draco wrote to Hermione every single day, and she wrote back the moment she got his letters, and then would tuck away his replies in a small box that she kept under her bed. 

Tonks and Susan also hadn’t been wanting for romance, either. After spending two weeks of July, dancing around each other and flirting, Hermione wasn’t surprised when she found them one day kissing by the Black Lake.

“It’s about time!” Hermione had said.

“Oh, like you have room to talk,” Susan rolled her eyes, “I noticed you mooning after Malfoy for six months before you did anything about it.”

“Am I that obvious?” Hermione cringed.

Dora laughed, “No, Hermione, you’re just a Gryffindor. You  _ all  _ lack subtlety.”

“Hey!”

* * *

The summer passed too quickly, the summer passed too slowly. But on September 1st, Hermione found herself snogging Draco in an empty compartment.

“I missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

When they walked into the compartment where the twins, Katie, and Cedric were sitting, Cedric groaned and Katie smiled triumphantly. “Hand over the money, Badger Boy.”

“This is unfair!” Cedric protested, “You had insider’s knowledge!”

“And yet you still made the bet,” grinned Fred.

“That’s really on you, there,” said George. 

Hermione grinned, “Draco, this is Fred and George Weasley. They grow on you, I promise.”

“Like mold!” said Fred.

“But grow we do!” George cracked a smile.

Hermione pulled Draco down to sit down beside her. “That’s Cedric Diggory.” Cedric raised a hand and smiled in greeting. “And then there’s Katie Bell, my absolute best friend. We’ll also probably have Neville squeeze in on the other side too, when he gets here.”

Katie grinned deviously, “Oh, I’ve heard  _ quite  _ a bit about you Draco.”

Hermione let out an eep and blushed before pressing her hands over Katie’s mouth, “Things she will  _ not  _ be sharing!”

Draco smiled. This felt right. This felt like home.

\-------

Sometime along the ride, Hermione fell asleep, her head resting on Draco’s shoulder. Cedric and Neville-who had joined the compartment five minutes before the train left-shared a look. 

“So, Draco,” Cedric began, “I’m sure you know how fondly we think of Hermione.”

“She’s like a little sister to us,” said Neville.

“So, it’s up to us to give you the talk,” continued Katie. 

“The talk where we tell you if you break her heart-” Began George

“We’ll break your body into tiny little pieces and then process them for fertilizer for one of her plants.” Fred finished. 

“I’ve been waiting for her for five years, I know how incredible she is,” said Draco. “If I hurt her, I deserve everything I’ve got coming to me.”

Fred and George grinned. “You realize you just gave them a ridiculous amount of leeway there?” asked Katie. 

“Like I said, I’d deserve it.”

“You might be alright, Malfoy,” said Cedric after a moment.

Hermione yawned and started to stir. She opened her eyes to realize everyone was looking at her. “What?”

* * *

The night of September 1st, Harry watched Hermione sitting in a chair by the fireplace, absorbed in a book. A lopsided grin grew on his face as he watched her, the hues of the fire reflecting gently onto her face. He sat in the chair adjacent to hers, and cleared his throat.

She looked up warily.

“So you and Malfoy, then, huh?”

Harry looked on sadly as a blissful look crossed her face. “Yeah.”

“I guess I’ll ease up maybe then on everything this year.” He paused. “You know, you two seem really happy together. Like it was something supposed to happen. I always thought that that was going to be you and me once I finally got you to say yes.” She tossed him a sympathetic look. He laughed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now with all my free time. Chasing you’s kind of been my hobby for the past five years.”

“You could try and channel that energy into something else,” she suggested.

“Like what?”

“Studying for OWLs, I suppose.” He snorted. “Or you could join one of the clubs.”

“Maybe.”

“You know, I never thanked you for all those interviews you put out in the Daily Prophet defending me. I really appreciated that.”

He waved her off, “Don’t worry about it. If anyone else was in that situation, you’d do the same thing.”

“I still wanted to thank you for it though. You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked into the fire, “Figured it was the right thing to do. You know, everyone thought it was Sirius who betrayed my parents at first, because he came from a Dark Family. They almost didn’t even give him a trial. I mean, when they did, he proved his innocence, but they shouldn’t have just assumed it was him, just because who his parents were. We live in the Black Townhouse in London, and his mother has a portrait there. Ridiculously loud and stuck to the wall, too. Whenever her curtains are open she screams about him being a Blood-Traitor and me being a filthy half-blood. From what he’s told me, his father wasn’t much better.”

“Have you ever tried to take it down?”

“Yeah, but nothing we’ve tried has worked and it just pisses her off further.”

“I can try a couple of things, if you want.”

He offered her a smile. “That’d be brilliant.” He paused. “You know, even though I won’t be shouting it in the Great Hall anymore, you still really are smart and beautiful and wonderful and just something special. I reckon that’s what drew me in in the first place. Wanted someone like that in my life.”

“You still can.” 

He looked up at her. “But they won’t be you.”

“I’m not half as perfect as you paint me to be.”

“You are,” he said. “You just don’t see it.”

“You know,” she mused, “Daphne Greengrass is into you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty smart, and she’s beautiful and wonderful and special. And well, we can maybe try and be friends?”

“I’d like that.”

* * *

Hermione took great delight in dragging the twins to the library that year. 

“Why don’t you drag Cedric to the library?” Fred complained. 

“Because I am here of my own free will,” announced Cedric, sitting down with a stack of books. 

“Or Hermione might be getting a helping hand,” said Susan, who was smirking.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, you’ve recruited a new person into your study cult!” said Fred. 

“And what about it?” said Hermione, “Susan and I became friends over the summer, and she’s currently ranked above the three of you.”

“What?!”

“Okay,” said George, “I get that you’re making Cedric study, so he can go into a Ministry job. But Fred and I are starting our own joke shop, we don’t need NEWTs for that.”

Susan looked affronted, “Of course you do. You want investors, don’t you? You need to show them you know your stuff. Showing them your merchandise and pranks is a good start but some good NEWT scores will really help.”

“And this is why she ranks above you lot,” said Hermione.

“Betrayal,” said Fred, dramatically placing his hand upon his heart.

“E tu, Hermione?” George said, equally dramatically.

“Please tell me I rank above these two?” plead Cedric.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione primly, “Depends on who gets the better NEWT scores.”

“Little Miss Gryffindor Princess,” grinned Susan, “That sounds quite Slytherin to me!”

“Between a Slytherin boyfriend, and these two-” she gestured towards Fred and George, “Who tricked the Sorting Hat out of putting them in Slytherin and into Gryffindor, I think some of their tendencies are rubbing off on me.” 

“You two were almost Slytherins?” Cedric said in disbelief.

“How are you surprised by this?” asked Hermione.

“I told the Hat I would burn it if it didn’t put me in Gryffindor,” Fred recalled fondly.

“I threatened to kidnap it and make it listen to Percy prattle on about school if I wasn’t in Gryffindor,” smiled George, “He was so traumatized from Percy’s sorting that he agreed immediately.”

“Apparently Perce had a lengthy pros and cons list for every single house, and made the Sorting Hat listen to  _ all of them _ ,” snorted Fred.

Hermione grinned, “Okay, enough stalling you two. You’re too brilliant to fob off your NEWTs.”

“Here that, Georgie?” asked Fred.

George grinned. “She called us brilliant!”

* * *

One night, Hermione snuck out to the Astronomy Tower to meet Draco. He had left her a note that said nothing more than “Astronomy Tower at 10 -Draco”.

When she arrived, she noticed the wards he had put up around the tower, and a slight buzzing sound. “It’s so nobody can hear,” A radio started playing with the wave of his wand and he took her into his arms. 

_ Two, three, four _

_ You wake me in the night and your tears falling down, come let me dry them for you _

_ I wish I could tell a story, chase away all those ghosts you've got inside of you _

“You were dancing with Cedric for this song,” said Draco, “I spent the whole night wishing that I was him.”

“You did get one dance,” said Hermione.

Draco smiled, “Little love, one dance wasn’t enough.”

_ A story of heroes that fight on at any cost of a kingdom of love to be won or lost _

_ We'll fight here together 'til victory is won, come take my hand 'til the morning comes _

_ Just close your eyes _

“You know I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. You burst into my compartment asking if we’d seen a toad. When you smiled, it was like everything in the world reset for me. I love it when you smile.”

She grinned cheekily, “Why?”

“Because it lights up the room.” At her eye roll he started to protest. “No, I’d swear on the River Styx that it does.”

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I know here in the dark tomorrow can seem so very far away _

_ Here the ghosts and the goblins can rise from your dreams to steal your heart away _

_ Together we'll chase those thieves that won't leave you alone out from under the bed, _

_ Out from over our home _

_ And when the light comes we'll laugh my love about the things that the night had us so frightened of _

_ And until then _

“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into your eyes,” said Hermione.

“Why my eyes? They’re terribly boring.”

“You take that back!” Hermione teased, “They’re my favorite thing about you. Your eyes look so beautifully old, like they’ve seen the rise and fall of every civilization, and when all is said and done, you’ll still be there, still watching.”

“I’ve been watching you since first year,” he confessed.

“I wish I had been watching you sooner.”

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ Now I know it can feel like you're slipping away, at night you'll get lost in that deep dark place _

_ We'll let the night come and do what it may, together we'll find the courage, we'll find faith _

_ Until you awake _

“I’ll love you forever,” he whispered into her ear.

“Forever will never be long enough.”

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always _

_ I'll stand by you always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always _

_ I'll stand by you always, always, always” _

  
  


And as the song ended, he spun her and dipped her into a kiss, and everything in the world felt right. 

\---

**Attack on Muggles in London!**

**Bellatrix Lestrange ESCAPES AZKABAN**

The Daily Prophet’s headline was alarming enough as is, but the picture of Bellatrix Lestrange laughing maniacally on the front page, next to the image of a spell hurtling into a crowd of Muggles right outside a popular London Restaurant. But the message was clear. The war was starting. 

“Attention students,” Amelia Bones called from the High Table, “I’m aware that it is a Hogsmeade weekend. In light of recent events, we will be cutting it a bit short. Everyone must return to the castle by four, and if you at any point see or hear anything that makes you feel unsafe, find a Professor chaperoning and notify them. There will be more Professors supervision this weekend as well.”

Murmuring spread throughout the Great Hall, but Hermione was thankful that the Hogsmeade weekend was still on. She had been planning to go with Draco. Although, with the new news, she wanted to alter their plans in the town. 

As they walked hand in hand to the small town, Hermione turned to Draco. “Let’s get married. Today,” Hermione said breathlessly, plowing through lest she lose her courage. “We don’t have to tell anyone, we can just do a small ritual-there’s a beautiful little grove I discovered this summer. It’s just with all the news and everything we’ve said to each other, I don’t know what’s going to happen and I think there’s going to be a war and I just-”

He cut her off with a hungry kiss, and pulled back. “Little love, I would love to marry you today.”

The bright sun of the autumn day was nothing compared to her smile.

\---

“It’s the autumnal equinox today,” Draco said as Hermione led him to her little grove, “Which makes it one of the best days of the year for rituals. The autumnal equinox symbolizes change and transformations. I don’t know if you chose today for that reason?”

She shrugged, “Maybe, I don’t know. It just felt right.”

When they reached the grove, there were three women waiting there. Draco looked to Hermione in confusion, but she shook her head. She didn’t know why they were there either. As they got closer, Draco realized who they were. His mother was the furthest to the right, her blonde curls falling down her back, a far cry from the pin straight chignons he had only seen her wear since she was a boy. Next to her was a brunette, a tall regal woman with brunette hair that Draco had recognized from pictures his mother had shown him that she hid in the floorboards. “That’s your Aunt Andromeda,” she would say. “I miss her terribly.” And then, there was a woman with riotous black curls and dark circles around her eyes that stood out against her pale skin that hadn’t seen sunlight in years. Bellatrix Lestrange.

Draco immediately moved to cover Hermione. “Mother, what is she doing here?” he said, his wand pointed at the escaped convict. 

“Peace, Draco,” she said, her eyes misty and slightly hazed over, “She is here for the same reason Andy and I are here. We were called. Did you really think I was going to miss my only son’s wedding?”

“She is going back to Azkaban the moment the call has been answered,” Andromeda’s icy voice cut through the warm autumn day. 

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” sang Bellatrix, “After all, the winds of change are blowing, Andy. I hope you still remember your gifts after sullying yourself with a Mudblood.”

Andy raised an eyebrow, “And I hope you still remember yours after wasting away with the dementors for fourteen years, unloved and everyone glad you were gone.”

“Please, stop!” Narcissa cried, “This is the first time I’ve seen either of you in years. I’ve missed both of you terribly, can we  _ please _ stop this fighting?”

“Oh, Cissy,” Andromeda softened a bit, “You were always the sensitive one of all of us.”

“Shame she had to marry the bastard Lucius,” snarled Bellatrix. 

Andromeda looked at her sister, with something strange playing upon her face. “Truly.”

Hermione looked at Draco, bewildered. He was just about as lost as she was. 

Andromeda raised her hand and a flash came from her wand. A ritual circle appeared upon the ground Hermione and Draco were standing on, in the middle of the grove. 

“This ritual entails the exchanging of blood split by a very special knife that has been passed down in the Black family through the women, generation to generation,” explained Andromeda.

“It only is of use when there are three sisters,” said Narcissa, “And for very specific rituals.”

“This is a binding ritual,” Bellatrix grinned, “Which of course after all the chanting and blood sharing is sealed by consummation.” Hermione paled and Draco went bright red. Bellatrix cackled, 

“Of course, we won’t be there to watch,” Narcissa assured the two teenagers.

“Unless you’re into that,” Bellatrix’s grin was becoming more and more maniacal.

“Bellatrix!” Andromeda snapped. Bellatrix shrugged in apology, although she didn’t seem very sorry. Andromeda glanced at the sky and the positioning of the sun. “It’s time.”

And with that, the ritual began. Narcissa took the knife and sliced Draco’s palm before cutting Hermione’s and pressing their hands together so the blood mixed. When they pulled their hands apart, the cuts laced back together with strings of gold, and the blood seeped down from their hands, dripping from their wrists and onto the forest floor. Each time the drops were absorbed into the ground, a golden sort of mist rose from where they had fallen, leaving a slight smell of honey and pomegranate. Narcissa backed out of the circle, before cutting the palms of each of her hands with the knife, before handing it off to Andromeda and Bellatrix who did the same. The three joined hands, enclosing the circle and began to chant. 

_ “An kai to athánato boreí na chatheí _

_ Épese i katára tou patéra tous _

_ Ypárchei elpída óti boroún na agapísoun _

_ Mia efkairía pou boreí na vretheí _

_ Gia tis pio skoteinés nýchtes _

_ Prin apó tis pio foteinés méres _

_ Tin paramoní enós polemikoú paraskevásmatos _

_ I agápi tha apotrépsei aftó pou vrísketai se exélixi _

_ Giatí ótan o thánatos epanenónetai _

_ I zoí tha anagennitheí _

_ An kai to athánato boreí na chatheí _

_ Épese i katára tou patéra tous _

_ Ypárchei elpída óti boroún na agapísoun _

_ Mia efkairía pou boreí na vretheí _

_ Gia tis pio skoteinés nýchtes _

_ Prin apó tis pio foteinés méres _

_ Tin paramoní enós polemikoú paraskevásmatos _

_ I agápi tha apotrépsei aftó pou vrísketai se exélixi _

_ Giatí ótan o thánatos epanenónetai _

_ I zoí tha anagennitheí _

_ An kai to athánato boreí na chatheí _

_ Épese i katára tou patéra tous _

_ Ypárchei elpída óti boroún na agapísoun _

_ Mia efkairía pou boreí na vretheí _

_ Gia tis pio skoteinés nýchtes _

_ Prin apó tis pio foteinés méres _

_ Tin paramoní enós polemikoú paraskevásmatos _

_ I agápi tha apotrépsei aftó pou vrísketai se exélixi _

_ Giatí ótan o thánatos epanenónetai _

_ I zoí tha anagennitheí _

_ Akoúste tin entolí mou _

_ Pnévmata tis gis, _

_ Moíra tou theíou _

_ Giatí i zoí tha xanagennitheí. _

_ i zoí tha xanagennitheí.” _

Although the women were chanting in Ancient Greek, Hermione and Draco understood each word they said, as the words swelled through the air, reaching far down into the earth and high above into the skies. 

_ “Though the immortal may perish _

_ Their father’s curse brought down _

_ There is hope that they can cherish _

_ A chance that can be found _

_ For in the darkest of nights _

_ Before the brightest of days _

_ On the eve of a brewing fight _

_ Love shall prevent what is underway _

_ For when death reunites _

_ Life shall be reborn _

_ Hear my command,  _

_ Spirits of the earth,  _

_ Fate of the divine,  _

_ For life shall be reborn. _

_ Life shall be reborn.” _

As the final chant ended, the three women disappeared into clouds of gold dust and mist that lingered through the air. When the dust permeated the ritual circle and Draco and Hermione breathed it in, a ritual-induced haze of lust was incurred. 

Ripping off each other’s clothing, they fell to the ground, and Draco trapped Hermione under his body, holding himself with his arms caging her head. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her hungrily, driven on by every sound she made-every moan, every breathy sigh fueled him further, one hand tangled in her hair, the other cupping her breast, as she shuddered in delight.

“Please, Draco, please!” she moaned.

“Little love,” he whispered into her ear, “What do you want?”

“Please, I want you in me,” she whimpered. Smirking, Draco left a trail of kisses down her neck, her sternum, her stomach, to her apex.

“So wet, little love, for me, my perfect little love,” he whispered huskily before beginning to thrust into her. 

“Oh, gods, oh gods,” Hermione chanted like a prayer.

“Who is this for? Who do you belong to? Who is making you come undone, right now?”

“You, you, you!” Hermione cried, “Only you, Draco.”

“You’re mine, say it!”

“I’m yours, Draco, only yours, oh please, please!” He continued to thrust into her, and Hermione moaned his name fervently, like it was the only thing she could remember. And then, they both came undone, shuddering, her back arched and then Hermione went limp against Draco’s chest, and he had never felt happier.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, tracing lazy circles on her chest, “Do you know how beautiful you look when you come?”

“Can we do that again?” Hermione asked in a small voice, cheeks pink. 

How could he deny her when she asked so prettily?

\---

Hermione awoke in the afternoon, the sun streaming down, her head right above Draco’s heart, the beat strumming steadily. And out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tree. It was a pomegranate tree, with bright burgundy fruit hanging tantalizingly, glistening in the sun. They were calling out to her-calling her name in a cacophony of voices. She slowly disentangled herself from her husband’s arms, and seemingly in a trance, she walked towards the Pomegranate tree. She reached out for the largest pomegranate, the calls surrounding her on all sides, and plucked it from the branch it hung from. Carefully, she broke the plant into clean halves with her hands, and admired the treasure hidden within. The blood colored seeds sang out for her as she took a handful of the seeds and placed them in her mouth, savoring the flavor, before swallowing them.

And then everything clicked into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so that was my first ever attempt at writing smut so it might be absolutely terrible, I don't know. 
> 
> I'm going to rewrite the sixth chapter before posting it because I hate how I wrote it, so I don't know how long that will take. Please, feel free to harass me into getting it done because knowing me, it'll end up on the backburner and I'll forget about it. I mean, it's more wrapping some stuff up with Voldemort and all that and who's what god etc. etc., and it's got a scene with Katie in it that made me cry when I wrote it (partially because I was really hormonal when I wrote it, and partially because it's a really cute scene imo)
> 
> So if I don't post the ending by the end of the month, please feel free to DM me on tumblr to get it done because like I said, I'm stupid, and I forget things (like I did with this fic after Chapter 3 whoops, sorry about that)
> 
> Tumblr: https://allysficpics.tumblr.com/


	6. The Sixth Seed

Cedric Diggory collapsed in the middle of Hogsmeade, to the horror of those around him. A wide berth was gathered around him, as students started shouting and sending up sparks into the sky, screaming for an adult. 

Cedric, however, was completely unaware of the hubbub going on around him, swallowed into darkness. In the black, images, memories, thoughts of another lifetime raced through his head, faster and faster. And when he awoke, so did Helios, after over a millennia of sleep.

\---

The three Black sisters waited in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, waiting for the rush they knew was coming. 

“I missed you so much, Andy,” Narcissa’s face glistened with tears, “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Cissy,” Andromeda cried, before she embraced her younger sister. Bellatrix watched the embrace with thinly veiled longing. She missed that. She missed being the three Black sisters. 

“Andromeda, I’m so sorry.” she said, “Could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”

That was when Andromeda’s tears started flowing freely, “Oh Bella, I missed you too.”

And the three sisters fell into an embrace, laughing and crying freely-but it didn’t matter. They were together for the first time in forever. And so they held each other as the ancient magic washed through them and the Three Fates were reborn.

\---

Neville Longbottom, was sipping a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, listening to Hannah Abbott talk about her favorite subject-Charms. He couldn’t have been happier-he had finally worked up the courage to ask her out and she had said  _ yes _ . Yes to him, to Neville Longbottom. He started to feel a little light headed. Great. Of course, his luck was going to end. It always did. The last thought in his mind before he collapsed was his hope that Hannah would agree to a second date after him so spectacularly ruining the first by passing out. Then the soul of Hermes came to life, flitting awake, stretching after years of wait. 

\---

Fred and George Weasley could not believe their luck. They had off-handedly mentioned their ambitions of opening a joke shop to Harry Potter, who had contacted none other than Sirius Black, who they were now sitting across from at a desk, sipping firewhisky with, and he was throwing numbers at them. Numbers like ten-thousand Galleons. 

A wave of-was it power?-washed through the room, and both of the twins felt a splitting headache, while Sirius furrowed his brow in concentration, as if something new had come to his attention. As the twins’ headaches softened, just as quickly as they had arrived, Poseidon stirred within Sirius Black, and the renascence of Dionysus stretched between Fred and George Weasley. They blinked in tandem and looked at each other in confusion, while Poseidon began to laugh heartily.

“Ah, Dionysus,” he said, “Of all of us, trust you to muck it up and end up in two different people.”

\---

Harry Potter wandered through Zonkos, eying the colorful displays. It was supposed to be a pick-me-up for the love of his life falling in love with someone else, but he wasn’t doing a great job. He was happy Hermione was happy, but it wasn’t something easy to swallow. He’d spent five years chasing the girl, and nothing had come of it. Not that he was going to try and muck up their relationship, it was just  _ disappointing.  _ Hermione  _ was  _ smart, special, beautiful, kind, what more could you want? How was he supposed to fall in love with anybody else when she was right there?

And then an invisible wind knocked Harry over, flat onto his back, knocking all of the air out of him, and making him see stars. But stars weren’t the only things he saw. Memories. Memories flooded through his mind like a tidal wave, memories of who he was. Apollo.

\---

Sitting in a corner of the Hog’s Head, Susan and Tonks shared a glass of firewhiskey, playing a game of Truth or Drink. 

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” Tonks asked, her eyes gleaming.

Susan rolled her eyes, “I’m not giving that ammunition to you quite yet,” before downing a swig of her drink. “What is your favorite person to morph into?”

“Snape. And I have a  _ fantastic  _ story to go along with that, too,” Tonks said smugly, before looking back up at Susan, who had glassy eyes and was falling forward. Catching her quickly, Tonks felt herself involuntarily morph between person after person, and with each came images, painting the picture of Aphrodite. 

Susan moaned, “Oh, my  _ head _ .” 

“Well  _ this _ is an interesting development,” Aphrodite smirked, looking into Artemis’s eyes. 

\---

Katie Bell had decided to stay inside this Hogsmeade weekend. She had a Potions essay she needed to write, and by the gods, she was going to get an O on it, come hell or high water. She couldn’t wait to see stupid Snape’s face when she handed in the best essay he’d seen in a decade, and the best one he’d ever see. Suddenly, she slumped over her parchment, a bit of ink rubbing off onto her nose. In a moment, she sat straight up, Demeter resurfacing. 

“Persephone.”

\---

At a Hogwarts staff meeting, Amelia Bones ran through her feedback over the classes she had overseen so far, when half of the room collapsed into a convulsing heap.

Poppy Pomphrey awoke Hestia.

Severus Snape resurfaced as Hephaestus.

Amelia Bones became Hera.

Mad Eye Moody was reborn into Ares.

Minerva McGonagall watched in horror at her colleagues, wanting to move, wanting to help, but was glued to the spot. And then a wave of understanding came over the Goddess of Wisdom, Athena. 

\---

Voldemort was in the middle of  _ Crucio-ing  _ Peter Pettigrew for being an incompetent fool when he doubled over, screaming in pain as pieces of his soul came back to him, one by one. Across the country, a ring blackened, a diary bled, a diadem burst into flames, a locket melted, a cup curled in upon itself, a snake hissed in agony, and a boy collapsed yet again, in pain, before slowly peeling himself off of the ground, fumbling to find his glasses. 

And Voldemort-piece by piece, regained his soul, and became less and less human, yet perhaps more and more human than he had been in years-as the pieces of Zeus clicked into place. 

\---

And in that grove, a newly christened Persephone, once known as Hermione McGonagall, rushed into the reborn Hades’ arms, his platinum hair glowing under the sunlight, as the former Draco Malfoy cradled his crying wife against his chest. 

“Oh, little love,” he crooned into her hair, “I promised I would find you, didn’t I?”

* * *

After reacquainting herself with her husband-was it really reacquainting if they’d been reborn as different people and still found their way to each other?-Hermione dragged Draco through the village of Hogsmeade, among the curious stares of the students. Hermione raced through the crowds, not caring who or what was in her way, searching, searching. 

And then there she was. Hermione tore through the people between her and her mother. 

“Mama!” she cried out.

“Persephone!” Katie sobbed, before they fell into a tight embrace, before whispering into her hair, “Hermione.”

“Katie,” Hermione whispered. 

Katie pulled away from her daughter and looked over her shoulder at Draco. She arched her brow at him, before turning back to Hermione. “Do you believe in Divination and prophecies  _ now _ ?”

Hermione grinned, “Only counts if it was made by the Fates. So no.”

“Dammit, little love,” said Draco, smiling fondly at her. “Hermione, do you happen to know how much five hundred drachma is worth in Galleons?”

Hermione threw her head back in laughter, “You bet against my  _ mother _ ? Draco, darling, you know you’ll always lose. She’s uncannily good at winning bets.”

Katie grinned, “That’s because I only bet on you, and I know you better than anybody else.”

“Gryffindors  _ are  _ rather predictable,” Draco smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i don't love the ending on this personally, so i might rewrite it one day to be a little less ambiguous/open-ended. 
> 
> even still, i hope you guys did. i just wanted to tie up all the loose ends. maybe i'll make a sequel or a one-shot sequel some day if i ever feel inspired to do so. thank you so much for coming on this journey with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos and a comment if you enjoyed it! I also have a tumblr where you can ask me questions, dm me, or whatever at https://allysficpics.tumblr.com/


End file.
